


Turn About

by sekiharatae



Series: Behind Closed Doors [21]
Category: Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Community: springkink, F/M, Romance, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-06-18
Updated: 2009-06-18
Packaged: 2017-10-12 11:44:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,782
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/124488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sekiharatae/pseuds/sekiharatae
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cloud's had a rough few days. Tifa makes everything better.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Turn About

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: foot rub and other pampering - just one night
> 
> Many thanks to yuenmei on LJ for the very speedy beta, and for being a sounding board before I ever wrote word one.

It was not uncommon, at the end of a long day, for Tifa to collapse on the sofa after her shower and put her abused feet in Cloud's lap. "You have magic hands," she'd all but moaned the first time he'd reduced her to a weak-limbed mass with nothing more than a simple foot rub. He'd smiled – that sexy-yet-shy smile – and then carried her upstairs to finish the job, leaving her boneless and quivering and thoroughly satisfied.

There were dozens of tiny little ways he spoiled her like that; from picking up rare and beloved ingredients whenever he had the chance, to helping her clean the bar after he'd already worked a full day of deliveries. "You take care of me all the time," he'd countered, when she'd protested that he didn't need to do so much, "let me do this." She'd hesitated, and he'd pressed. "Let me, Tifa."

So she had. Largely because pampering her seemed to make him happy, and she'd be a fool to say she didn't appreciate the help, or enjoy the attention. If anything, what upset her was the fact that she rarely – if ever – had a chance to pamper _him_. To have him lean on her. Geostigma and mako-poisoning aside, Cloud was a man who never got sick, and whose energy and stamina surpassed everyone they knew (excepting, possibly, Denzel and Marlene on a sugar high, and even then it was a toss-up).

When the search parties scouring Midgar in the wake of the Deepground incident were finally dispersed, that changed. Cloud returned home filthy, sporting a variety of cuts and bruises, the knees and hems of his pants torn and ragged. Although he hadn't slept in four days, his eyes were clear, not glassy, his exhaustion only apparent in the tone of his voice. More obvious was the abuse to which he'd subjected his body: close to one hundred hours spent moving concrete rubble and steel girders searching for Vincent or any other survivors, had left even his mako-enhanced body worn, muscles knotted, joints tight. Never one for broad gestures, now every movement was honed to a strict minimum to avoid jarring or straining anything further.

Between the grime and the blood and the shuffling movements, he reminded Tifa of a zombie. A blond, blue-eyed, beloved zombie, but a zombie just the same.

Forcing back her distress, she was quick to assist him in removing his armor and sword harness, kneeling to help him out of his boots so he wouldn't have to bend or try sitting: once he was seated, it might be difficult to get him moving again. He ate standing up as well, single-handedly devouring a chicken casserole that would've fed four. Her eyes narrowed at that, but she resisted the urge to scold: in the first place, it wouldn't change the fact that he obviously hadn't been eating, and in the second, Cloud would always be Cloud. When he finished, she helped him upstairs to the shower, taking his ruined clothes and leaving him to drain the hot water heater.

He took inordinate pleasure in watching the gray-tinted water wash down the drain, and in the feel of hot water and steam-warmed air on skin that had been too long coated with ash and dirt and – in some places – blood. It took three tries before his hair lost its stiffness and the water ran clear. Once clean, he stood with his arms raised and braced against the shower wall, letting the hot spray beat down on the muscles in his back and shoulders, coaxing them to relax.

 _Heaven._

Although still somewhat stiff, by the time the water turned cold Cloud felt he could walk without wincing at every step. For which he was glad, because when he entered the bedroom, wearing nothing but a towel around his waist, Tifa was waiting, and it'd been far too long since they'd been together. Dressed in panties and an oversized t-shirt that had slipped down over one shoulder, she met him with a smile and a kiss, before surprising him by urging him to lay down on the bed on his stomach. He wanted to protest, to tell her he needed her more than sleep, but the soft mattress and cool sheets felt sinfully good, and when she undid the loose knot at his hip to spread the towel out, he suspected she had ideas other than sleep in mind.

When she straddled him he was certain of it, although a bit confused. "Tifa? What are you...?"

"Shhh," came the response, along with the faint sound of a cap popping open. Then her hands were at the small of his back, cool and slippery. Slowly, one hand on either side of his spine, she stroked smoothly upward, and he found himself releasing a deep sigh in tandem with the motion. Her fingertips ghosted along his shoulders, down his sides, and then returned to the small of his back only to repeat the cycle. After a few repetitions, he realized there was just the faintest tingle left behind on his skin, accompanied by the merest hint of birch in the air: she was using the massage oil she sometimes worked into her legs and arms after a particularly strenuous workout. The vaguely minty tang was both soothing and revitalizing, and Cloud sighed again, reaching out to pull a pillow close, curling his arms under the fluffy weight and resting his head on top.

"Good?" she asked, voice soft, as if worried she'd disturb him.

His answer was equally low, a wordless sound of pleasure. It was better than good: at the moment there was nothing to worry about, no enemies to fight, and the woman he loved was doing fantastic things to ease all the built-up tension from his body.

Well, almost all. Tifa's ministrations were feeding a different, pleasurable sort of tension, and he had not the slightest interest in making her stop. No one else had ever touched him just to give pleasure. No one had ever slathered him with attention the way she was now. Mind and body soaked it up, the way his skin absorbed the light oil as her hands worked over his back.

Hissing in a breath as her knuckles rubbed deep, kneading a particularly stubborn knot, he then exhaled a low moan when his muscles unclenched at her insistence. She moved on to the next trouble spot, prompting a gasp and a vaguely pleased whimper. Tifa chuckled, leaning down to breathe in his ear, "If that's what I sound like when you rub my feet, I know why it turns you on." Cloud flushed at her teasing, but gamely turned his head for her kiss.

"If it feels this good when I give you a foot massage," he answered, nipping lightly at her bottom lip before snuggling his face back in the pillow, "I know why you enjoy them so much."

Sitting back up, she scooted a little further down on the bed and started to rub tantalizing circles over his tail bone with her thumbs. He jerked a bit in surprise, but subsided under her touch, only to reach down and rearrange things a few seconds later. Tifa grinned, but didn't stop the motion of her hands. "You've never had a massage before?"

"No," although muffled, she could still hear the blatant enjoyment in his voice, "I've never really had the opportunity." He paused, arching into the press of her fingers. "Besides, it took me months to be comfortable with Barret or Cid walking up and thumping me in the shoulder or patting me on the back. I still get jumpy if a customer does it."

Tifa could picture it, too: she'd seen him start away when customers tried to pat him on the shoulder in thanks. "I guess that would make sitting still for a massage difficult," she agreed, keeping her tone light and cheerful, refusing to let regret over things she couldn't change intrude on the moment. Shifting to straddle his calves, she bent down and pressed a nipping kiss to the curve of his butt, delighting in the surprised sound he made in response: half gasp, half laughter. "But I'd be happy to give you one, anytime. I'm not an expert, but Master Zangan said I had a nice touch."

"Very," Cloud agreed, lifting his head to look at her over his shoulder. "I hope you made him keep his clothes on, though, and your teeth to yourself." His eyes were bright with relaxed amusement.

"Cloud!" she protested, swatting him firmly on his too perfect ass, "Bad images! Bad images are not allowed! I can't bleach my brain!"

Shoulders shaking with silent laughter he subsided, and the room became quiet except for their breathing and his occasional sighing moan. Tifa's thumbs soothed away aches in his glutes he wasn't even aware he'd had, before she stretched out on top of him, her face snug in the curve of his neck and shoulder, her light weight pressing him gently into the mattress.

"Cloud," she whispered, lips against his throat, "do you remember a few weeks ago, when you promised to wear me out?"

His answer was a sleepy, affirmative grunt, followed by a satisfied mumble: "I did, too."

She laughed, the sound soft and happy, prompting his mouth to curve in response, although he remained silent, eyes closed. "I want to do the same to you tonight. I want to wear _you_ out."

Groaning, he shifted beneath her, rolling onto his back. "You won't have much work to do," he told her, pulling her close even as he settled into a more comfortable position, "I'm already halfway asleep."

Brown eyes were hot and eager as they traveled over his relaxed form, noting one aspect of his anatomy that appeared far from tired. "Don't you know," she answered, tongue darting out to tease his left ear, flicking the ring in the wolf's mouth back and forth as he shivered, "that the climb is even better when you start out practically boneless?" Careful teeth closed around the ring and tugged, and he turned his head to give her mouth a better target, his lips open and hungry beneath hers. "You taught me that."

"Did I?" he murmured, when they separated to come up for air. Her answer was a sexy smile, and then she was slipping away to lie between his splayed legs, her breath a teasing caress against his aroused length.

"All I want you to do," she told him, "is relax and feel."

His mind protested, even as his weary form agreed with her suggestion. Then her mouth closed around his tip, and the clamoring of his body rose to drown out any hesitance on his part. It would've been a losing struggle in any case: she'd learned too much about him over the past year, including how to press all his buttons. She knew when to speed up, and when to suck; when to graze him with her teeth, and when to ease away before things went too far.

"I know all your secrets," she agreed with his unvoiced thought, her tone low and husky and demanding. "I know what you like," her teeth grazed his length as she took him deep, keeping him there while she swallowed, "and I can tell when you're holding back." She'd come to recognize the way he tensed and gritted his teeth, bucking slightly, as he surrendered to a mild form of climax, resisting the need to ejaculate until he was certain she'd had enough. Only then would he relax and allow himself to slip past the point of no return.

Like now: he was clenching his fists in the covers, head back, welcoming her touch, but not overwhelmed by it. Letting the pleasure peak, but withholding his release. "I think you like doing that," she added, watching him as he eased away from the edge.

"It gets better," he murmured, his breathing just a bit rough. "Longer. More intense." His hand curled around her nape, his thumb brushing the curve of her cheekbone. "And I don't leave you behind."

That would be reason enough for Cloud, Tifa knew.

"What if I want you to?" she asked, and his eyes went wide and surprised. "What if I want you to be selfish," she coaxed, her fingers already moving, working to break his restraint, "just for one night?"

At least some part of him liked the idea, for he peaked much faster the second time, his penis flexing in her hold as he held back again. When he exhaled the breath he'd been holding, she began to scatter kisses across his stomach. "You don't give me time to think about anything but how good your touch feels," she said, still working to persuade him, "don't you want that? Doesn't it feel good when I use my hands and mouth on you?"

He bucked off the bed, grinding himself against the slick, wet fabric of her panties. "Tifa!"

"Was that a yes?" she asked, rocking her hips against his.

"You know it was," he ground out, hands curling around her waist in an effort to synchronize their rhythms.

Her lips skimmed back and forth across his chest as she pressed her palms flat, one over each small, hard nipple. Then she stretched to press her open mouth to his throat, letting is slide up to nibble his chin. "I know something else you like," she murmured, low and throaty. "More than my mouth or my hands, you like to be inside me, thrusting deep until I moan your name because it's the only thing I know."

Cloud half-curled off the bed with the effort not to lose control, his head falling back to reveal the taut cords in his neck. "You're killing me," he groaned, splaying his hands across her butt and pressing her tight against his groin.

"No I'm not," her right hand slid down between them to push her panties aside and guide him to her entrance, "I'm loving you." Her mouth lightly brushed his and then she sat back to slowly sink down over him, engulfing his length in clinging heat. "Don't you like it?"

His answer was another choked groan as she began to move. Tifa twined her fingers through his, holding tightly, preventing him from grabbing her hips and setting or altering the speed with which she took him. He struggled, almost whimpering when she deliberately clenched around him. "Please, Tifa," he gasped, his thrusts bordering on violent, "let me... can't hold back again... need...!" He wasn't begging to come, that was inevitable; what he wanted was to touch her, ensure she found release, too.

Guiding his hands back to her waist, she tugged her shirt up, let her fingers slip lightly over his stomach and down to where they were joined. "Look," she told him, crooning, fingertips stroking and teasing her clit, "watch me."

Blue eyes glazed and hungry, he did, unconsciously matching the motion of his hips to the speed of her hand. "It's going to be _so good_ ," she moaned, trailing her free hand over her throat and breasts, the action both wanton and alluring.

"Tifa!" Cloud's muscles were straining, legs and arms trembling with effort.

"Come for me, Cloud," she answered, never ceasing her movement or altering her pace. "I need it!"

With a choked, strangled howl of her name, he exploded, his hands slamming her down onto him as tightly as possible. He jerked inside her repeatedly, hard motions against her front wall; and she came as well, watching entranced as he gave himself over to the rush. She'd never seen or heard him out of control like this, totally lost to passion and to her and to the pleasure she'd given him. When he gasped, hands falling to fist in the covers even as his length continued to pulse inside her, she collapsed on top of him, her slender form blanketing his as he shuddered.

Voice hoarse, he moaned. "I can't stop." It felt too good to stop, even as he wondered – in some distant corner of his mind – how long it would last. Finally, long moments later, he lay spent, chest laboring for breath, too drained to move.

Exhausted. Something of another first for them.

At Tifa's soft laugh, his mouth crooked into a tiny smile, his fingers moving enough to sift through her hair, just once, but his eyes remaining closed, lids heavy and weighted. "Did I wear you out?" she asked, voice light and amused, even as her own post-coital lethargy coaxed her toward sleep.

Her only answer was the soft, regular sound of his breathing.


End file.
